A Little Bit of Everything
by acaelousqueadcentrum
Summary: "Santana doesn't end up in Louisville." Brittany / Santana; Future-fic


**Title:** A Little Bit of Everything  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** Future.  
**Spoilers:** thru "Saturday Night Glee-ver"  
**Disclaimer: **Glee is not mine. Nor is the Dawes song "A Little Bit of Everything" I stole for the title  
**Author's Note:** Have other things to do. Writing fanfic instead.

Santana doesn't end up in Louisville. In the end it came down to the same thing that's always driven her decisions; all her decisions since she was about seven years old, anyway.

In the end, it comes down to Brittany.

Because it's always been Brittany.

Brittany who loves her. Brittany who saves her.

This time it's Brittany who inspires her, who challenges her to be so much more than Santana had ever dared to dream for herself. She wants everything, and with Brittany by her side, Santana knows there's nothing in the world that could stop her from having it. So Louisville—Brittany's adorable and wonderful planning aside—is out of the picture. Simply because going to Louisville would mean leaving Brittany behind.

Not that Brittany couldn't have gone to Louisville with her, and not that they couldn't have started the rest of their lives in the great bluegrass state. But Brittany is a dancer—the best dancer Santana had ever seen, honestly—and while Louisville did have a dance program, there were bigger and better places for her girl to be. So Santana spends her nights researching and filling out applications and putting together options for the future that would let them both pursue their dreams. She swears Sam and Artie to secrecy, and enlists their help in compiling tapes of Brittany's performances over the years to send in with their paperwork. She borrows her dad's credit card and pays two application fees to every school on her final list. She writes two times the essays she needs to—because Brittany isn't dumb but writing has never been her strong suit, anything of any importance can be said through dance instead—and manages to sneak copies of Brittany's birth certificate and social security card out of Mr. Pierce's big roll-top desk during a late-night "bathroom run" one sleepover. She even manages not to bristle under the shockingly sincere "Atta girl, Lopez" that Sue gives her when she goes to the coach for letters of recommendation. She barely sleeps and she loses close to six pounds. But none of that matters. Because every thing she's doing, she's doing for them.

In the end she's narrowed it down to about four: New York, Wisconsin, Florida, and California. The dance programs in each location are top-notch, and Santana can study pre-law at any of them. The decision, well, the decision she plans to leave to Brittany.

When all her preparations are finished, and all her ducks (she can't even say the word without thinking of her beautiful girlfriend) are in their rows, Santana calls the two families together for a joint-meeting. The Lopezes and Pierces have been close for years—with how close their daughters are, they'd have to be—but the tone of the relationship has changed in the slightest ever since the two girls brought their relationship out into the open. Coming out resulted in a somewhat uncomfortable joint-family talk as the parents attempted to navigate a new set of rules for just how to handle the fact that their daughters are clearly having sex on a regular basis. (That they'd been having sex on a regular basis for years is something that has thankfully not become public knowledge to the parentals. Santana is content to let them to think that this has been recent development.) So far the "open door" policy that both sets of parents have instituted hasn't really interfered with their sex life. They've just had to be more creative in finding the time and place to get physical with each other; when all else fails, there's always the back of Santana's car (she's been keeping it a lot neater these days just in case).

But on the whole, new rules aside, the "our kids are doing it" talk went pretty well, and when Santana asks her mother to invite the Pierces over for dinner on the weekend, she does so with her fingers crossed and the hope that this one will go over just as smoothly. After the dinner plates have been cleared away and the dessert—sweet empanadas that Santana made, following the recipe her abuela taught her years ago—has been set out, Santana stands up and clears her throat. Both sets of parents look at her, slightly worried at what she might be preparing to say, and Brittany, sitting at her side, just looks confused.

"I know you guys are wondering why I wanted you all here," she starts, and grasps Brittany's hand tightly (though who needed the contact more, she couldn't say), "and I just want to set you all at ease."

She pauses for a moment.

"We're not pregnant."

Brittany's mom laughs first, and the rest slowly follow.

"We were pretty sure of that, young lady," Mrs. Pierce says, her smile extending all the way up into the corners of her eyes, just like Brittany's does, "but what did you really want to say to us?"

"Well," Santana says, "I've been thinking about the future."

And then she tells them about the full-ride to Louisville that Brittany had secured for her, and all the reasons why she couldn't accept it. She tells them about the research and work she's done in the past few months, about her struggle to find an option that would let them both chase their dreams. And then she pulls out the acceptance letters, and lays them before her girl.

"We got in, Brittany. We got in to Berkeley, FSU, UW-Madison, and NYU. You can dance and I …" Santana stops for a second, and realizes that she's about to share something with them that she hasn't told anyone yet.

"And I, I can study pre-law." She looks to her parents, who seem lost in wonder at her, and then to the Pierces, who seem close to tears, before she finally works up the courage to look at Brittany. "I know you worked hard at getting me into Louisville, Britt," she says, bringing her palms to rest on her girlfriend's face, "and it may have been a good school for me, but it wasn't going to be a good school for you. I want you to dance—if that's what you want, I mean. So I'll go wherever you want to go. Because I can survive the winters in Wisconsin, or the people in New York. But I couldn't survive Louisville without you, or even with you if you weren't happy too."

Brittany is silent, and there are tears in her eyes too. But there's also that smile, soft and loving, the one she saves just for Santana slowly making its way across her face. It feels like hours that Santana stares down at her, hours before Brittany brings Santana's hand from her cheek to her mouth, and presses a delicate kiss to its very center. It's the kiss that lets Santana know that she's done well, the kiss that gives her the courage to straighten up and look over at their parents again.

The Lopezes and the Pierces are still a little flabbergasted, so Santana starts up again.

"I know throwing away the full-ride to Louisville might seem like a bad idea, Papa," she says, "and none of the schools here offered us full scholarships. But if you look at the letters, they're all giving us both some sort of support and we both qualified for some work-study programs that will—"

"—Mija," Santana's father interrupts sharply, cutting off the rambling that Santana only seems to slip into in moments of extreme vulnerability. She looks startled, and so when he begins again, his tone is softer. "Tana, you've just given us a lot of information to think about. So let's take a moment to catch our breath before we talk about the logistics of all of this."

He looks to Mr. Pierce, who nods his head, before continuing. "I just want to take a moment and tell you how proud your mama and I are of you. We watched you all this year and saw you pretend like your future meant nothing to you. It was hard for me to keep from trying to shake some sense into your head, but your mama said that these were plans and decisions that you needed to make for yourself, whatever the consequences. I have been so afraid that you would just let life pass you by, and let yourself linger here, just because you were afraid to go out and grab what you really wanted."

The tears threatening in Santana's eyes fall as her father rises and reaches to pull her tight to his chest. "Oh, mija," he says softly. "But tonight, to hear how hard you've been working to seize that future, to go out and really chase your dreams? I'm so proud of you." He embraces her again before stepping back to hold her at arm's length.

"Now, we'll have to talk it over with the Pierces, but I can say that wherever you and Brittany decide to go, you'll have the support of your mother and I, as much as we can."

Mrs. Pierce lets out a loud sob, and stands to move over to the two girls, pausing before them for a moment before pulling Brittany up to stand as well. "My girls," she says, pulling them both into a warm hug, "I'm so proud of you . And whatever you two decide, we'll figure a way to help make it happen." Mrs. Lopez joins the hug as well, squeezing the girls tight between them, while the fathers start to look at the packets that Santana's put together on each school.

They spend another hour or so discussing the pros and cons of each of the four schools, before Brittany's sister gets tired of watching Disney movies in the living room and wanders in to ask if it's time to go home yet. That breaks the spell that seems to have settled over them all, and Mr. Pierce realizes how late it's gotten. The parents make plans to get together again next week to discuss further, and while they're packing up leftovers in the kitchen Santana takes a moment to look over at Brittany, just a little bit worried at how quiet her girlfriend has been during the whole conversation.

"Hey," she says, kneeling down before her, reaching her fingers up to play in Brittany's hair, "you okay?"

Britt reaches for her hand and threads their fingers together. "Mmhmm," she says, letting her thumbs run circles over the backs of Santana's hands.

"You've just been—"

Santana is interrupted by their mothers coming back into the dining room.

"Brittany, you ready to go?" Mrs. Pierce asks.

Brittany's grip on her girlfriend's hands tightens just slightly as she looks past Santana's dark head to respond.

"Actually, ma, Santana and I want to talk a little more about the college thing. Could I spend the night? If it's okay with Mr. and Mrs. Lopez?"

The two mothers exchange an amused glance before Mrs. Lopez nods her head.

"That sounds like a good idea," Santana's mother says, "you two have a lot to discuss and a big decision to make."

Santana couldn't be sure—she was still facing Brittany—but she could swear there was a smile in her mother's voice as she gave her permission.

The two mothers started toward the front hall, where Mr. Pierce and Ellie were waiting, pausing only to turn back and wish the girls a good night.

Once she was certain that they were alone again, Santana lay her head in Brittany's lap. "Are you sure, that you're okay, I mean? You haven't said anything. If you want to go somewhere else, or you want to go to different—"

This time it's Brittany who cuts off Santana's rambling.

"Hey. I'm tired. Why don't we go upstairs and get ready for bed?"

Now it's Santana's turn to look confused. But she allows herself to be led upstairs to her room. She lets Britt undress her and manipulate her limbs into the old WMHS Cheerios t-shirt she likes to wear to bed. And then she watches patiently as Brittany strips and digs into the stash of her own clothing that's migrated from the Pierce house into Santana's room for something to wear to bed as well.

Within thirty minutes the room is dark—but for the crack of light thrown in from the hallway—and they're lying face to face in Santana's bed, legs tangled together and barely space for breathing between their chests. Santana can see how Brittany's eyes are still shining, wet with tears.

"So," Brittany says, her voice almost a whisper, "you've been working pretty hard." It's not a question, and there's really nothing for Santana to respond to, so she stays quiet. "Is this why you've been so tired lately? I thought something was wrong, I thought you were sad again."

"I'm sorry you were worried," Santana whispers. "I just didn't want to tell you before I had everything all worked out."

Brittany leans in and silences her with a soft kiss, lingering for a moment before pulling back.

"It's okay," she says. "I know you, Santana. You don't have to apologize. Just, next time, if you let me help you, you wouldn't have to do all the work yourself."

"I know," Santana responds, and Brittany can hear her sorrow in her voice, "I just wanted to have everything all perfect for you."

Brittany laughs. "Babe," she says, "I've got you, and everyone knows that I've got you. How much more perfect could anything get?"

Santana can see her smiling in the soft light from the hall. "You're such a sap," she teases, but she smiles back at her girlfriend, letting the sweet words warm every part of her body, from fingertip to toes.

They lay like that, silent, for a while—minutes or hours, it's not certain—before Santana breaks the quiet.

"But Britt," she says hesitantly, "if this isn't your dream? If you have some other idea or you want to go and look elsewhere, I'm in. You just—"

Brittany stops her short again with a kiss, long and sweet.

"Stop it," she says as they break apart. "My dream is to be with you. I would have followed you to Louisville. Now I'll follow you to New York, or Florida, or wherever. Because I love you, and the only dream I care about is you."

Santana scoots closer, and reaches up to push back a piece of hair from her girlfriend's face. "I love you too," she whispers, " I love you so much." She spends a moment just looking at Brittany, almost as if she's trying to memorize everything about the woman she loves in this moment in time. "So," she says, "let's stop following each other."

Brittany looks confused for a moment, but Santana continues.

"Let's stop following each other. Let's go together instead. We'll make the decision together. Because we love each other."

The "okay" that Brittany gives is more breath than words.

"So," Santana says quietly, "where do we go?"

Brittany thinks for several moments, scrunching up her nose in that way that makes Santana want to pepper kisses all over it.

"Well," she says, drawing out the word, "New York would be fun because Rachel and Quinn and Kurt will all be nearby. And Florida would be nice because we could swim with the dolphins any time we wanted." Santana chuckles at this, because her girlfriend is clearly the most adorable thing she's ever seen. "And then Wisconsin is cold but it's closer to Ohio and you look fantastic in red."

This last bit is punctuated by Brittany running her nails over Santana's ribs, which is both titillating and soothing at once.

"And Berkeley?" Santana asks.

"I've always imagined you in California," Brittany says, licking her lips.

"California?"

"Yep," Britt continues, "in the sun, or in a car with no top. On the beach, or in shorts that are really, really short."

Santana can hear the sex and the smile in Brittany's voice. "You," she contributes, "in a bikini, all the time."

Brittany laughs.

They're quiet for a few more moments, both mulling things over in their heads.

Brittany breaks the silence first this time.

"So," she says, "California?"

Santana closes the last bit of distance between them, resting her forehead against Britt's.

"California."


End file.
